Isn't Something Missing?
by BeebeeThurlow
Summary: Harry goes more than a little bit odd. It's not a nice fiction, kiddies. Character death, dark Harry... read to see more, I guess.
1. Chapter 1

_Before I begin, I'd like to apologise for the long wait between any updates. I've had a lot going on recently, and I doubt I'll have any time to update any of the others any time soon. Like I say, I apologise, and all I can do is hope you accept my apology._

_The other thing you need to know is that this isn't pleasant. I'm not in the best state of mind right now, and this fiction is the product of that. _

_There's character death and torture, as well as a dark Harry and the faint mention of a sexual relationship between Ron and Hermione. I must apologise also for the somewhat abrupt ending. There will be no sequel, unless I have an extreme change of heart, which is unlikely to happen. _

_Saying I hope you enjoy this would most likely be the wrong sentiment, but whatever. Make of it what you will. Just don't get angry at me if you don't like it. _

* * *

_Am I that unimportant… am I so insignificant… isn't something missing… isn't someone missing me?_

Harry walked slowly down the long, seemingly never-ending corridor, a bloodstained length of rope hanging limp from one hand, the other hand tightly gripping a knife that still had the crimson liquids dripping from it. He stared at the ground as he walked, moving as though in a dream, seeming almost to glide over the floor with his feet barely touching the smooth, marble surface.

There was a certain beauty about the male, even as he staggered down the hallway. He was the living definition of an oxymoron, graceful in his movements even as his robes hung torn round him, his eyes sharp and focused despite the dullness of the colour, an odd, demonic purity exuding from him.

_Even though I'm the sacrifice, you won't try for me, not now…_

He was well and truly alone now, he thought, and that thought caused him to throw his head back and laugh aloud, a cold, chilling sound that echoed down the corridor. Harry didn't know what else to do, he dropped to his knees and cast aside his weapons, propping himself up with his hands, his body shaking with anger and mirth.

Oh, the irony of it, the delicious irony…

How long had he been the Saviour of the Wizarding world? It had been a title that had been thrust upon him, he'd never wanted it, never done anything to deserve it. He'd only ever been 'just Harry,' he'd always had help… Well. He was finally able to show them, show them all, that he was capable of doing things alone. With another outburst of laughter, he rolled over onto his back, gazing dreamily up at the ceiling, where blood was beginning to drip from the cracks and the connections between the ceiling and the wall.

"I showed them all, didn't I?" He whispered, his voice hoarse from his laughter and his laughter from hours previously, when he'd tortured his two best friends the good old Muggle way… Hermione, screaming in agony as he cut off the circulation in her body bit by bit with the rope, tearing each limb off one by one, helpless in the corner whilst Ron, oh, darling Ronald, had been tied to a chair, struggling with all his might, but no match for Harry's magic, never any match for Harry's magic…

Of course, when Hermione had finally stopped struggling and her filthy, Mudblood body was going blue, Harry wrenched her head off and threw it at Ron… "That's your girlfriend! That's her! Don't you want to kiss her? Don't you want to kiss her one last time?" Harry had roared, bent over double as he laughed, Ron yelling in terror, disgust, and grief at the torture and loss of his lover.

"You'll be with her soon, Ron… you'll see her again soon…" Harry suddenly stopped laughing and began to move towards the redhead, alarming Ron possibly more than when he'd been shouting and laughing. "P-Please, mate… please… don't do this… I-if you must, please k-kill me quickly…"

But Harry was not Lord Voldemort. He was not a merciful lord, and he relished in Ron's cries and high-pitched screams as he skinned the wizard slowly with the knife, hissing soft words of encouragement and comfort in Parseltongue. "It's alright, Ron, you'll see her again soon…" He whispered repeatedly, and all too soon for Harry, the pure-blooded male slumped dead in his chair, twitching repeatedly but most definitely deceased.

Bored of his games, and aware that it held no more interest for him now that his two best friends and the majority of the rest of the Order of the Phoenix – Lupin, Tonks, Fred, George, Mr and Mrs Weasley… - were no longer able to respond, dismembered and torn apart on the floor, Harry began to leave.

He came back to the present with a pleasant, dreamy bump, and got to his feet once more, quietly scooping up his toys once more and heading up the stairs to the top of the Astronomy Tower. These stairs, too, were strewn with bodies, for his magic had expanded and surrounded the castle, sparing those that he wished to play with personally, and obliterating all others. At the top of the tower, he settled down and began to carve delicately at his chest and arms with the knife, shivering at the pleasurable sensation of the knife ripping at his flesh.

Giving a low moan, he thrust the knife viciously into his stomach and twisted it, slowly, crying out in pleasure and pain at the sensations and arching his head back, swallowing briefly a moment later. "I wonder…" He thought, a moment later, standing and hovering precariously on the very edge of the tower. "I believe I can fly…" He whispered, and at the words of the Muggle song he snorted, then flung himself off the edge of the tower.

He wasn't a bird, or a plane, or indeed Superman, and as he plummeted the hundreds of feet to the ground, he realised this probably hadn't been such a good idea. Harry landed heavily at the ground, and had a few seconds to note the lack of pain and be irritated by it, before his eyes glazed over and he lay still for the final time.


	2. Chapter 2

_Destruction like fire…_

And fire was what Harry was watching, flickering up before his eyes, consuming everything within it's path as it spread through the halls of Hogwarts, several kilometres away. For once, the wizard was being somewhat sensible, standing back and allowing the fire to do as it wished, go where it pleased.

He didn't know how he'd come to this point. This point in time, yes, but this point in space… no idea.

By that, he knew what had driven him to hate those who he had once loved, to torture and murder those who had supported him, and pushed him to grasp the Dark Arts and twist and bend them to his will. How he had got from the bottom of the Astronomy tower to here, standing by the Forbidden Forest, however, he had absolutely no idea. He had no idea how he had suddenly stood, brushed down his clothing, and began to walk calmly towards the Forest, leaving no sign behind him that he had ever been there except a slight indentation in the rain-softened ground and a few small blood stains. All he could remember was a vague disappointment in being unable to fly.

Harry guessed it didn't matter, as the flames reached the second floor and licked up the outer walls, feeding on stone, ivy, glass, desks, chairs… and the bodies of those who had fallen, heroes of the war teaching the next generation all they knew, children skipping classes due to a lack of completed homework or a dislike of the subject, even those sitting attentively at desks scribbling notes as fast as they could. How he had survived wasn't of importance, what was important was that he was. And now, he could continue to live his life how he wanted, not how everyone else told him to live it.

He turned away, he didn't need to see the fire spreading to know when it had reached the top floor and the bodies of his previous family and friends were lost forever. A glint of something shiny could be seen in the Forbidden Forest, and with a casual flick of the wand Harry sent a Killing Curse towards it. The creature, a unicorn, fell to the ground with one last neigh, a whinny of panic that would undoubtedly send the others of it's kind running in fear for their lives. Smart creatures, Harry thought dully, before feeling the now-familiar pulse of energy that ran through him. He turned on the spot, and let out a loud whoop of exultation at the sight of the beautiful castle lit up with flames, hellcats of fire scrambling up the turrets and towers and screeching their message from the highest points of the school.

The era of Hogwarts was over. Fiendfyre wasn't something that was easy to get rid of, and yet, as Harry raised one hand and cut it abruptly across his throat, the flames died down, still burning, allowing him to see the ruined building that had once been such a magnificent home of learning. He threw his head back and laughed manically, a small voice in the back of his mind wondering if this was how Sirius Black had been laughing when he'd been captured by the Ministry of Magic so many years ago. The rest of the voices in Harry's mind merely shrugged their nonexistent shoulders and instead focussed on another movement in the Forest.

Harry turned, wary, his wand raised, but he shot no spell at the movement. He saw no need to, for some reason, the presence wasn't one that irritated him, as so many others did. He took a step backwards and waved a hand absentmindedly in the direction of the flames, and they instantly died, smoke pouring from the destroyed pillars and walls, the floors having collapsed in on each other shortly after the fire had begun, although the towers and turrets remained, remarkably, upright, despite being torn apart by the flames and the hellcats that had climbed them and were now slumbering amongst the ashes, waiting to be reawakened, or else to remain in sleep forever.

"Friend or foe of Hogwarts?" He called, although he didn't expect an answer. Harry was surprised, therefore, when a tall male of slender build stepped from the trees, steely grey eyes fixed upon Harry's face, ignoring his wand entirely.

"Foe." Replied the voice of Draco Malfoy, and whilst he and Malfoy had never been on terribly good terms, Harry nodded slightly, tilting his head to the side and watching as the other male drew closer. His first impression was that Malfoy looked tired. His clothes were as expensive and beautifully tailored as ever, his cloak was only slightly stained by travel, and he looked as manicured and clean as he always did. However, the subtle differences were those that Harry noticed the most, the faint shadows beneath Malfoy's otherwise sharp eyes, slightly sharper cheekbones than usual, his hair hanging almost lank over his face. "Stop staring, Potter, and come with me." Malfoy snapped, before turning and beginning to walk away, cloak swaying slightly as he walked.

Harry blinked. He looked over his shoulder, at the still smoking wreckage of the buildings, then looked ahead once more, at Malfoy's retreating back. Unsure of quite what he was doing, and why he was doing it, he then began to trot along obediently, scampering slightly in an attempt to catch up with the long-legged male. "You're really pretty." He blurted out suddenly, narrowing his eyes as Malfoy raised an eyebrow and glanced down at him. "You know what I mean. I never noticed before, all that much, but you're really pretty."

"Potter, the only reason I can think of for you to be saying this is that the smoke from the flames got into your mind and addled your thinking." The voices in Harry's head yelled at Malfoy to go screw himself, and as though he could hear them, the blond rolled his eyes and smirked. "And the only remedy I can think for that is for you to shut up." He continued, still striding along annoyingly fast, leaving Harry to jog along with two steps to every one of Malfoy's.

Harry didn't speak, instead simply concentrating all his energy on following Malfoy through the trees. They had long ago left the path, and although he was sure that he'd be safe with Malfoy, Harry wasn't too keen on meeting the centaur herd. Surely they would have witnessed the burning of the school, would have heard the agonized screams of the pupils and teachers alike. And even if they had banished him, Firenze was still one of them… they wouldn't react well to meeting his murderer, Harry was sure. After a while, therefore, he spoke up, still scampering behind Malfoy. "Where are we going?"

He almost flinched under the gaze that Malfoy gave him, but the memories of his friends screaming and begging for mercy, oddly enough, gave him strength, and he met the stare head on, until Malfoy conceded gracefully, nodding his approval. "Malfoy Manor." Harry couldn't hide his surprise.

"Malfoy Manor? But that's not here! Where is it? Where are we really going? Where are you taking me?" Malfoy sighed as Harry kept up the questioning, managing to word it differently each time, and eventually turned round and silenced the inquisitive male by dragging him closer and into a somewhat forceful kiss, one hand moving to Harry's back, the other resting on his waist. He continued to kiss him for a few more seconds before pulling away and pretending nothing had happened, continuing to walk whilst Harry staggered along behind him, dazed and confused.

They continued that way, in an oddly comfortable silence, for about an hour more. Then, pushing his way through the undergrowth and kicking at a rabbit that didn't move fast enough, Malfoy gestured for Harry to go ahead. There was a clearing ahead, empty except for a completely still pool of water that seemed eerily deep, surrounded by a ring of stone that seemed to twitch every time anything came near it, including small things like leaves. "Through there." Malfoy nodded to the pool, and Harry blinked but moved forwards anyway, leaning over the ring of stone that was twitching and wriggling madly, apparently distraught at how close the movements were, although not physically touching him at any point. Again, Malfoy seemed to grow impatient somewhat soon, and reached out, pushing Harry roughly forwards and smirking as the male tripped over the ring and slid smoothly, but not at all gracefully, under the water.

Harry thrashed round in the water for a few minutes, before beginning to giggle, closing his eyes and breathing deeply as he sank below the surface. Opening his eyes and continuing to breathe, his vision swam and he saw for only just long enough to see Malfoy dive in after him before he suddenly emerged from the pool, perfectly dry, coughing up the water that had made it's way to his lungs. Glancing round, it took him a moment or so to realise that they were no longer in the forest, but in an impossibly large entrance hall, the floor paved with what looked to be thin sheets of gold nestling atop a stone floor. Malfoy emerged beside Harry and led him from the pool, opening his arms wide and gesturing round at the lush surroundings.

"Welcome to my home."

* * *

_I continued it... heh. _

_To be honest, I saw no reason not to, other than that like the others, this fiction may not be updated terribly regularly._

_I do have one thing to say, however, and that is this - before anybody comments saying that Harry reacts differently around Draco, yes, I know._

_At the time, I was annoyed with myself for this, but there is a reason, and it will be revealed in later chapters._

_Maybe._

_Until then, and for now, enjoy the update._


End file.
